


Too True (Cammie'Verse)

by Kazbaby



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Amnesia, Cammie'Verse, F/F, F/M, Mindfuck, Violence, genderflip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-12-07
Updated: 2010-12-07
Packaged: 2017-10-13 13:51:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/138067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazbaby/pseuds/Kazbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last thing she remembers is fire and the not-so-ironic burning need to run. Run away, little girl. Little lost girl that no one knows, not even herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Little Girl Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Riffing on Ivorygate's [Too True to Say Goodbye to You](http://community.livejournal.com/lilblckdressfic/3691.html)...only this is Cammie'Verse (Cameron Mitchell was born female).

The last thing she remembers is fire and the not-so-ironic burning need to run. Run away, little girl. Little lost girl that no one knows, not even herself.

She had three crystals in her pocket, pretty little trinkets and baubles that were useless. At least until she found out one was a key but by then it was long gone and the Jaffa that demanded its return was lying at her feet bleeding out from the healed scars that once housed the potential for greater horrors than she remembers.

Pretty little baubles for a pretty little nameless runaway girl. Useless, all of them. Thrown away on the dirty street and ground beneath boot heels and ash. Like her.

She learned a new trick today. Old trick actually; timeless if you want to know the truth. And she does. And she does it more than once just to get herself inside the back gate and her hands on a computer console and watch her fingers fly. There's something funny about that, now if only she could remember the punchline because she could damn sure use a laugh right now since the information she needed wasn't where she'd thought it would be.

Fucking goddamn shitsucking lying Jaffa bastard.

If he wasn't already dead, she'd cut off his dick and feed it to him. Maybe she'll just do that to the whorefucker that told her that what she needed to know was behind door number one that the now dead Jaffa guarded for the Lucians. And to think she fucked that son of a bitch and called him 'daddy' for _nothing_.

She sighs and mentally ticks down to the next stop on her list.


	2. Too True

She's drinking at the bar when the guy comes up behind her. Sticks his hand between her legs and tells her that he has something hard he wants to shove inside her, split her in two; teach her how to not be so _uppity_ when someone offers her a great opportunity.

Turning slowly, she runs one hand up his arm, starting where his heel of his hand presses hard against her pelvis. She leans in, moans and gives her hips a little shift as she moves in close. "I know what you mean, honey, 'cause I got something hard for you too," she says breathlessly, reaching down between them. His eyes widen and he tries to move away, she moves with him and adds just enough pressure to the knife where the business end rests against his balls. "Tsk. Don't move. Don't wanna cut yourself."

He shakes his head quickly in agreement.

Jerking her arm up, the knife slices through the material and flesh like butter and he falls on the floor. She takes a step back as he quickly bleeds out, hating to get (more) blood on the soles of her boots. She looks to the small crowd of shocked patrons and shrugs. "Didn't mean I wasn't gonna cut." Finishing her drink, she throws a couple coins on the bar and walks out before anyone decides to get it in their head to call the local sheriff.

There's nothing on this world to keep her here anyway. No information, no Jaffa left out in the cold ready and willing (desperate) enough to trade. Not that she has much in the way of trade anyway and it pisses her the fuck off that a piece of ass doesn't work on them the way it does on the typical yahoo off the street. Oh well. What's a girl to do if she can't fuck to get what she wants?

Her gun is fully charged and the piece of shit she calls a ship is all fueled up and ready to go. Time to hit the next stop on the trail to oblivion. Good thing she also has plenty of rotgut to drink.


	3. Wake Me Up

She lets the guy with the oculars get close, pretends to buy his soothing voice and empty hands: _he claims_ his name is Daniel and that he knows her.

"You know me -- who I am?" she asks, her hand never straying far from the gun strapped to her thigh.

"Yes," he breaths out slowly, "I-- We-- my friend and I-- know you very well. We've been friends for a couple of years..." _Daniel_ has been gradually moving closer to her as he speaks. Too bad he gets too close and her knee connects where it always counts and he goes down before he can finish.

"Bullshit," she spits out before turning a table over on top of him and running.

Before she hits the door, her holster is empty - her gun drawn and ready. Daniel said her other _friend_ was with him. She hadn't needed him to tell her that there was someone with him -- bounty hunters always travel in pairs. You don't do business in this universe alone if you want to survive. Of course, working in pairs is also how you get stabbed in the back when someone spots that shiny star in the East that's a bit brighter than the few coins in your pocket.

Which is why she figures her odds are a lot better if she sticks to the sidelines and offers up some false gold of her own. She has a lovely little stash of naquadaah for when she has to buy off one bastard or another if she can't fight her way out.

When she doesn't see the other half of the tag-team, she doesn't breathe out a sigh of relief (that's when the anvil drops on your head leaving ACME stamped on it). The other guy is out here somewhere, waiting for a signal.

Her ship is in the middle of nowhere, busted up from a shit landing ( _only bad landing is one you don't walk away from_ ), but she'd seen a few harvesters on the edge of town when she came in. After she'd found out the Chappa'ai was too far to walk to she'd already started planning to steal one and get her goods and make her way quickly to the Chappa'ai. Harvester was no good on the other side, but she knows a few worlds where she can stow her things until she can come back with a new ship. _And the next one is going to have better fucking shields, dammit,_ she thinks just as she hears _Daniel_ shouting something. Pausing, she can hear him alternating between 'Cammie' and 'Cameron Mitchell'; obviously calling to his partner for backup.

She doesn't hear any response (and fuck can this guy yell any louder?) and continues to make her way in the opposite direction of where he's waiting like an idiot for someone who appears to have left him far behind.

When she makes it to the storage parking for the harvesters, she quickly heads to those parked along the outer rows. After she’d arrived in town, she’d watched the local girls working the bar and chose one who wasn’t the prettiest (though she still managed to beat some of the beauty contestants by a landslide since the others would have shattered mirrors on most civilized planets) to _make friends with_ ; figuring that she would still have enough men spilling their secrets to her in bed (amongst other things). She’d been told all about the harvesters bringing in good money, the workers who stayed in this god-forsaken-shithole, and who would be more than likely be interested in _new talent_ if she decided to stick around. She told the girl that she was willing to pay, not be paid, for a quick fuck and a warm bed before adding another coin to the pile on top of the nightstand table.

Harvesters on the outer three rows are always the ones prepped to go out on the next work detail, so that's where she heads.

There's a crunch of gravel two rows over. She stops and listens, but there are no other sounds but her own breathing.

A light shines on her from above suddenly and she's blinded by it. Quickly she shuts her eyes and moves her back against a harvester wheel, feeling her way to the edge so she can duck in between the machines. She cusses herself for not moving faster when she feels cold steel against her neck.

"Don't worry; we're not going to hurt you. I promise," Daniel says. He's sounds out of breath and a little bit irritated so his best at reassuring seriously sucks in her opinion.

"Screw you," she tells him just as he takes the gun from her hand.

"Sorry, not today dear. I have a headache."

Under other circumstances that just might have made her laugh, but he's got a gun on her and likes to cheat by having a damn cloaked ship. She wonders how long it's going to take for him and his partner to hand her over to the Lucians; she hopes it'll take at least a couple days (she bets herself that she can be away from them within a few hours).

"Teal'c, I have her," Daniel tells his partner as he shifts her to the center of the row, "We're in position now."

The gun is no longer against her neck as the rings come down. She braces herself, and as soon as they're inside the ship, she nails Daniel in the gut with her elbow. Twisting her wrist, she releases the blade hidden up her sleeve as the biggest goddamn Jaffa she's ever seen rushes into the room. She runs toward him and ducks, extending her hand and moving to the side as he goes to grab her. She can feel the knife make contact with flesh, slicing him. He shouts in pain but before she can turn around and quickly finish the job the sting of a zat'ni'katel hits her.

#

 _"Why do you continue to lie to us, Colonel Mitchell?"_

 _"'m not - not - not --"_

There's a face in front of hers that she can't turn away from, distorted and ugly. Its mouth seemingly swallows its entire head as it warps and shears off to the side. It splits as it does so, becoming the faces of the two men she first met after she was born out of an avalanche of fire.

 _"You lost? We'll help you." There are hands touching her, moving fast and greedy up and down her body, forcing her down into the fetid trash piled up beside the first building she sought help from, the first building that had lights and welcoming laughter._

 _"Don't fight us. You're too pretty to be out here all alone, you know. If you fight us, we'll make sure you're not so pretty any more and then no one will want to help you. Come on --"_

 _She reaches out, grabbing the first heavy thing that feels right to her hand and swings as hard as she can. She's afraid it's not enough so she does it again and again until the weight rolls away from her. There's a shout and she grabs another pipe from beside her. She uses both of them to kill her other new friend, pausing long enough afterward to finish the first guy. She takes the first guy's coat before going through both their pockets; she runs with their coins clutched tightly in her hands._

 _Running. Running. She's always running as far away as she can. There's someone after her. Always. Eternally. She can't get away from them fast enough because if she stops, they'll find her, she'll fall and never stop._

#

The first thing she does when she wakes is roll to her side and vomit. She can't remember her dreams, what they try and tell her about who she is, but the result is always the same when they happen. At least this time she can't place the blame on drinking herself into oblivion.

Wiping off her mouth, she looks around and notices a pile of clothes next to a canteen. Picking it up, she sniffs its contents. Afraid her stomach can't handle anything stronger, she's relieved to find nothing but water inside and drinks half of it before setting it down.

She can hear the sound of surf nearby and she goes over to the open window and looks out onto a gray ocean with matching skies as far as the eye can see. "Really should talk to my travel agent," she mutters, before going back to take stock of what she's been left.

Bastards took her coat, but at least they were _kind_ enough to leave her the clothes on her back. Though given how dirty they are, she's not sure if that's much of a blessing.

She picks up the only other options left to her (the ugliest damn green 'uniform' she's ever laid eyes on) and almost considers keeping the dirty clothes on. But given that she's been wearing them without any way to really wash them for several weeks… maybe it's better to put on the others. She's pretty sure they're used for psychological torture of prisoners. Either that or its to make sure that there's no way for her blend in with a crowd if -- when -- she manages to escape.

There are a pair of boots at the end of the cot she'd been lying on with a note sticking out of one of them. She almost ignores it because she hasn't been able to understand a word of any type of writing for as far back as her memory takes her, but when she picks it up to toss it, she recognizes something about the lettering. Something inside screams out that _she knows this_ and that the words are telling her to come out for food when she's ready.


End file.
